


Tis' the Damn Season

by scriibble



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluffy, Jen's Pining for Judy, Post-Canon, There's Mistletoe Everywhere, it's Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scriibble/pseuds/scriibble
Summary: Maybe Jen does want to kiss Judy under the mistletoe (or, really, anywhere).
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 13
Kudos: 81





	Tis' the Damn Season

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a ridiculously silly Jen/Judy fic that I wrote in about three hours after the longest shift ever at work. 
> 
> I've also got like three more on the go and I'm still writing part 2 to insomnia (that one is definitely not writing itself) but hopefully some of you enjoy this! It's a bit fluffy and ridiculous but I couldn't get the idea out of my head so had to write it.
> 
> The title is from TS evermore because I'm obsessed, although it has nothing to do with the actual song!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think

_Tis' the Damn Season_

* * *

Jen has never been one to get majorly in the Christmassy spirit (unless drinking endless amounts of wine because “it’s Christmas” counts) but the first Christmas she spends with Judy she’s practically forced into the festive season. Their house is a glitter explosion of tinsel and baubles, tiny fairy lights strung up on every available surface and their garden is scattered with little light-up reindeer. Jen had adamantly refused at first, content with a shitty, years old Christmas tree to put the presents under but a light pout on Judy’s part and she had unsurprisingly caved, even letting Judy buy them matching Christmas jumpers (Jen has to admit she had laughed when she read the glittery slogan across the front of hers; “Merry Fucking Whatever”).

Judy was, predictably, a force to be reckoned with when it came to the holidays.

Which is how they end up here; at Karen of all peoples house, who’s hosting a Christmas party to prove to everyone she’s thriving after her and Jeff's divorce (side note: no one buys it).

“Jen! Judy!” the aforementioned squeals as they arrive, both clad in matching reindeer antlers (Judy’s idea) and holding a joint gift (also Judy’s idea). Karen wraps them both in a tight hug that reminds Jen of a choke-hold before leaning back to beckon them into the house. “Thank you so much for coming!” She winks at Jen and lowers her voice: “I’ve got some of that Orange wine in especially.”

Jen hopes Judy is proud of her for holding back the eye rolls and sarcastic remarks.

“Oh, wow.” She says instead. “That’s so… special.” And, really, it’s not her fault if her voice is _ever so slightly_ sarcastic.

Judy shoots her a look before following Karen into the house, shrugging off a warm winter coat to reveal a simple black dress accessorised with a long silver necklace and a multitude of sparkling rings. “It looks amazing,” she gushes, gesturing to the red and green flashing lights strung up on the walls, the tinsel wrapped over the bannister and the snow-frosted Christmas tree adorned with glittering baubles. “It looks so Christmassy!”

“Thank you, Judy.” Karen is visually pleased and flushes under the compliment to her home. “It was so hard putting everything up, you know, without Jeff- but I finally managed to do it. I asked the plumber who was fixing my sink to help me with the lights and we took a selfie so hopefully that made you-know-who jealous.” She nudges her elbow into Judy’s side and winks again.

“That sound healthy” Jen mutters quietly and then, after noticing the distinct lack of other guests- “so is anyone else coming or-”

“Of course!” Karen says brightly. “I just asked you guys over a little early to catch up before the party began!”

_Great_ , Jen thinks. 

She needs a glass of wine (or three). 

* * *

Once the party gets going Jen has to admit that it’s actually fun (although she’d never admit that to Judy).

There are around thirty people, most of whom Jen doesn’t know, but her and Judy set up camp on a couple of armchairs that are relatively closely located to the buffet table and the alcohol. She likes that, being just the two of them; they gossip over the people they know and make up overly ridiculous head-cannons about the people they don’t know, each one more ridiculous than the last. Even more hilarious to the both of them is the fact that Karen has hung up tiny sprigs of mistletoe across the room, which was causing absolute chaos upon the party. One woman had watched her husband in disgust as he’d taken the chance to kiss a younger woman on the cheek before turning around and declaring to her that “it was the rules”. Two people who had shyly been getting to know each other had caused an uproar chant of “kiss, kiss kiss” when they’d found themselves accidentally shifting under the green sprigs. A man had been hanging around under the mistletoe for a suspicious amount of time trying to catch a certain lady under it, only to end up caught by another guy and having a wet smacker planted firmly on his cheek. Jen and Judy were in hysterics watching it unfold and had resolutely decided they should _not_ be getting up from their prime location by the alcohol (and _far_ away from the mistletoe) lest they get caught out. (because hey, it was fun when it was happening to other people but Jen knew if it was _her_ being cornered under it someone would be getting an earful).

It’s getting late and Jen’s feeling tipsy when Judy gets up and it happens.

She’s flushed pink, tell-tale signs of the wine evident in her radiant smile and bright eyes, as she stands up declaring that it’s time to get dancing. She’s beckoning to Jen, walking backwards and walks straight into the danger zone; she bumps into a tall woman with hip-length black hair and red lips and when she turns around to face her they both look up and spot the mistletoe located directly above the pair of them.

Jen stands immediately, ready to save Judy and sweep her away from this stranger; her head spins from standing up too quickly but she’s reached Judy in less than three strides and is ready to tell this woman where to go when Judy laughs and shrugs. 

“I guess it’s the rules,” she says and puts her hands on either side of her face and plants a fleeting peck of a kiss full on her mouth.

Jen stops mid-step and just stares, an ugly twist of something like jealously settling on her chest dangerously close to her heart. She watches the pair of them laugh and launch into a full-blown conversation as if they’re pals, not strangers at a neighbours Christmas party.

“Why’d you do that,” she hisses under her breath when Judy (finally) parts from this woman and comes back to Jen, holding her hands out and swaying to the beat of the music as if she’s still intent on them dancing.

“Why not,” Judy says shrugging with a small smirk playing on her lips. “It’s the rules, and besides, it’s only Cathy.”

“Who the fuck is Cathy?”

“You know, Cathy! She works with Karen? I’m pretty sure we’ve gone for lunch with her multiple times?” She’s looking at Jen as if she’s ridiculous for not remember. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter! Let’s dance.”

Jen’s not sure if it makes it better or worse.

* * *

Mistletoe seems to be a major theme of this Christmas and Jen glares at it every time she sees it as if it’s personally offended her.

They go to three more parties over the next couple of weeks and at every single one Jen avoids the tiny, _ridiculous_ branches like they’re a mum trying to make small talk at the school gates and Judy just _doesn’t._ Jen’s not sure if she wants to be kissed or if she’s just ridiculously unobservant but she kisses multiple people good-naturedly; always a short peck on the lips that doesn’t linger but it makes Jen’s chest constrict anyway, heavy heart swelling into conflict (she doesn’t assess what that means).

One time it’s Jen caught under the mistletoe by Christopher of all people. He laughs and goes in to kiss her cheek because “it’s tradition” and “bad luck not to” but Jen stops him with a firm hand on his chest and unfurls into a rant about how stupid and fucked up the tradition is. Christopher just turns his nose up and says, “Just because it was me you caught under the mistletoe and not the certain person you’re desperate to doesn’t mean you can be so salty. It’ll give you wrinkles.”

She just gives him the finger, oblivious to who the fuck he’s on about but later that night she realises; she’s wrapped up in bed with Judy in her (their) bed, soft dark hair tickling her nose and her sleeping form heavy against her side and it hits her. _Judy_ is the one person he could be talking about and the more she assesses this concept the more she realises it.

Fuck.

Maybe she does want to kiss Judy under the mistletoe (or, really, anywhere).

She lets herself envision it and is suddenly struggling not to drown in pathetically excessive sentimentalities at the way her heart stutters at the image of Judy looking up to spot mistletoe above the both of them and nonchalantly leaning in to press their lips together in something that starts chaste but turns into _anything but._

It shouldn’t be such a major revelation, really. Judy has wriggled her way into Jen’s life with her floaty florals and chunky rings and incense; she sleeps in Jen’s bed, their limbs tangled together lazily, co-parents their boys and holds Jen’s hand as they watch _Facts of Life_ and talk all night. They’re basically in a relationship, just without the physical aspect and Jen’s suddenly very aware that she wants that too.

* * *

“We should host our own Christmas party,” Jen suggests a week before Christmas as a result of a badly hatched plan.

“Really?” Judy says but Jen can tell by the way her eyes sparkle that she’s excited. “ Wait, I thought you hated hosting.”

“Yeah of course I fucking do but-” she runs a flustered hand over her hair, tucking fine escapee whisps behind her ear. “But we’ll co-host. And the kids are at Lorna’s on Christmas Eve so it’d be nice to have plans besides sinking a bottle of wine alone.” she knows one bottle is under exaggerating but Judy chooses to ignore this.

“That sounds so fun!” Judy is immediately in, which Jen is thankful for. “Oh my God, we should make our own Christmas cocktails- I know it’s not wine but wouldn’t it be so fun! I’ve seen so many on pintrest recently-”

And just like that Jen doesn’t even have to plan this thing, except for the one pivotal detail. 

* * *

They spend all of Christmas Eve decorating together, Henry and (an unwilling) Charlie included. 

“Why do I have to help,” he whines. “I’m not even invited to this thing.”

“Because I said so, that’s why.” Jen says, “and because you’re the only one tall enough to hang the mistletoe.” She’s planned on two sprigs, just to cover her bases; one dangling just by the kitchen counter and the other centred in the living room.

“Speaking of mistletoe,” Judy laughs, humour in her eyes as she nudges Charlie’s shoulder and points upwards. “I _think_ I’ve caught you under it.”

Charlie rolls his eyes but leans down to peck her on the cheek with a good-natured grumble. 

* * *

The party is probably one of the best Jen’s ever hosted (probably because she hasn’t had to deal with planning the fucking thing), but she’s already on edge an hour in because Judy’s kissed two people under the damn mistletoe already and none of them are her. She resolves that she needs to fix that sooner rather than later and goes to the kitchen to find her.

Jen practically downs her glass of wine; she’s suddenly nervous, the idea of Judy’s lips on hers causing some sort of fucked up elated anxiety to hitch her breath in her chest. She knows this is the moment though because no one is around and Judy’s unknowingly standing directly under the mistletoe, leaning casually against the makeshift bar at the counter pouring a hefty amount of tequila into a glass with some mixer.

She goes for casual as she walks over to join her, grabbing the bottle of wine on the counter to refill. “How’s the party?” she asks, not looking up.

“It’s good!” Judy’s just a little tipsy and is overly bright as she speaks, smile wide. Jen thinks she’s beautiful like this; hair mused, eyes sparkling, a little unsteady on her feet. “These cocktails are pretty amazing if I do say myself,” she continues and takes a little sip as if to prove it. “Here! I’ll make you one!”

Jen’s not sure wine and tequila cocktails will mix well but she agrees anyway and waits for a beat before making her move. She catches Judy’s eye and raises her eyebrows looking up pointedly between her and the mistletoe above them both, a smirk playing on her lips. 

Judy’s a little slow on the take up but after she looks up and sees it she laughs, an open and sweet sound, and reaches up to brush Jen’s cheek with her thumb. 

“You’re lucky I’m letting you off,” she teases and steps away to carry on mixing the cocktail away from the mistletoe. Jen scowls (it wasn’t this fucking hard for everybody else to get a mistletoe kiss) and her lips tighten as she snatches the drink off the table to take a gulp.

* * *

“Oooh,” Karen croons. “Look, you guys! Guess you’d forgotten where you hung it, huh?”

Judy looks up at the same time as Jen and Jen thinking _fucking finally_ and feels the erratic hitch in her pulse jump as Judy does that little shrug and reaches up to cup her cheeks. 

“I guess so!” Judy muses half to Karen as she leans up ever so slightly. Jen is electric, currents of anticipation tensing her body, and they linger there, lips just inches from each other. Jen’s very aware that one tiny nudge here and a little turn there and their lips would touch but she forces herself to wait. Judy’s mouth is stretched into a coy smile and Jen’s eyes slip close at the last second but Judy’s lips divert and find a place on Jen’s cheek instead, a silky caress that lasts for a few beats longer than can be classed as purely friendly.

Jen opens her eyes and Judy’s already turning away to talk to Karen and she’s overwhelmed with disappointment; apparently, she’s the only fucking person Judy won’t kiss properly. It’s fucking ridiculous; Jen knows she should just _talk_ to her and tell her how she’s feeling but she just can’t. She’s desperately co-dependent when it comes to her best friend (she’s already asked Judy to move in with her, share her bed, co-parent her kids; she doesn’t think she can ask for the rest of Judy’s kisses too).

Maybe she needs more mistletoe.

* * *

“Fucking fuck,” Jen swears as she almost puts the pin through her own thumb as she pins the mistletoe up above the landing. She can’t believe this is what her life has come to; three drinks in standing on a chair, glass tipping precariously as she hangs tiny sprigs of green on her ceiling in a pathetic attempt of an excuse to kiss her best friend. 

(She’s fucking pathetic.)

She’s in too deep now, though, and feels like if she _doesn’t_ kiss Judy in the next twenty minutes (or at least tonight) she’ll spontaneously combust. She’s just got the fucking thing pinned up when she’s interrupted by quiet footsteps followed by a _very_ familiar voice.

“Jen?” Judy sounds uncertain. “What are you doing?”

_Fuck._

Jen closes her eyes, takes a fortifying deep breath and steps down off the chair and setting her glass down on the sideboard before turning to face Judy.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Her tone is biting, defensive; she can’t help it but her nerves are frazzled and she’s just so _frustrated_.

“Putting up more mistletoe?” Judy’s confused. “Jen, the whole house is a minefield of mistletoe at the moment- what’s going on?”

“What’s going- What the fuck do you think is going on Judy? You’ve been kissing everyone left right and centre this month and I’ve been trying all night and somehow I’m the fucking exception?” She lets out a harsh laugh, feeling sick as realisation dawns on Judy’s face.

“Oh,” she says simply.

(Jen can’t stand this feeling of helplessness, of vulnerability.)

“Well,” Judy continues and Jen simultaneously loves and hates the teasing grin that spreads across Judy’s face as she steps closer so that they’re both under the freshly hung mistletoe. “If you wanted to kiss me you didn’t have to go to all this effort, Harding.”

Jen’s face flushes with embarrassment; she had gone a bit overboard. “Fucking obviously,” she says, swallowing the fluttering nervousness rising in her chest and trying to stop the quickening pulse at her throat. “I didn’t think you’d make it this _hard_ though.” 

“So I’m under the mistletoe with you now,” Judy’s close, her hands reaching to tangle with Jen's and her body barely inches away. “What are you going to do about it?”

And so Jen does the only thing she can do; she uses the momentum from tugging on Judy’s hands and hovers there, body pressed into Judy’s and lips _almost_ touching and lingers for a moment feeling uncharacteristically uncertain and drunk on the heady scent of something that’s just purely _Judy._

She doesn’t have long to over think though because Judy reaches between them to twist her fingers into the base of Jen’s hair to pull her down to kiss her in a rosé infused tangle of lips. 

They linger for a moment before Judy lets out this _needy_ little moan, open-mouthed and pressing into Jen, and suddenly Jen’s wrapping her hand deep in Judy’s dark hair and pulling her closer, all lips and tongue and teeth.

When she pulls away she stays close, resting her forehead against Judy’s. She’s flushed and her breath is coming a little too hard and she would be embarrassed about the obviously very teenage reaction she’s had to just a _kiss_ but Judy isn’t faring too well either, a pink tinge covering her cheeks and her eyes dark pools of liquid amber.

“Is it rude to kick everyone out now?” Jen asks eventually, still slightly breathless.

Judy just kisses her again.

* * *

On Christmas morning Jen wakes first, stretching her limbs and groaning as the headache hits her. She feels the familiar weight of Judy settles against her and traces a finger over her (delightfully) bare skin before opening her eyes and turning so she can take her in. Judy’s hair is sticking up in all directions and her face is soft in sleep, smile lines creasing her eyes. 

Jen nudges her and pulls her closer. “Jude?” she whispers, voice still gravelly from sleep.

Judy makes a little “mmm” noise and turns so that she’s fully in Jen’s arms without opening her eyes.

“Merry Christmas.”

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
